"Is that true?" said Blake. "Is Mr. Frank Hallett very angry with you? Does he mind your riding my horse?"
"No, why should he?" she answered.
"I should mind very much if you rode his horse after having promised to ride mine."
"Is this my horse?" she asked, pointing to a beautiful bay, which was held not by a black boy, but by a rather flash looking stockman—a rakish young Australian, with a fair moustache, twisted on each side to a fine point, and odd down-looking eyes. He was a fine upstanding fellow, lean and muscular, and had the gait of a man born or bred on horseback. It was said on the Luya that there had never been foaled the animal that Sam Shehan couldn't ride. He had been well known in the district from a boy, and was supposed to have done a little cattle-duffing, as it is called, in his younger days, but he had reformed entirely since taking a place with Trant and Blake of Baròlin Gorge, and was such a good hand with stock that the neighbouring squatters were always glad to get him over for a day or two at mustering times.
"Yes, this is the Outlaw," said Blake. "How is she this morning, Shehan?"
"Quiet as a lamb," said Shehan, "and fresh as a daisy, Miss. He's a bit of a speeler. He'd lick the lot of 'em if he was put into training."
Elsie put her foot into Blake's hand, and he lifted her into the saddle. Hallett was watching him jealously. Lord Horace had given Hallett charge of Ina. He himself was careering about the course, and had made a rather heavy book upon the races.
Behind Sam Shehan were two other Baròlin hands—twin half-caste boys, who had come in Shehan's train to Baròlin, and who had also turned into reformed characters under Trant's tutelage. Pompo and Jack Nutty used to have the reputation of being up to any kind of devilment, in the old days, and they, too, were magnificent horsemen, and invaluable at Luya musterings, because they knew every inch of the country.
